


Friendship of Stone

by trashofalltrades



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Book 1: Outlander, Book 2: Dragonfly in Amber, Book 3: Voyager, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: The First Avenger, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Female Friendship, Marvel References, divergence from the end of Written in My Own Heart's Blood, happy-ish ending, some angst in the middle because I'm evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-10-24 13:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10742520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashofalltrades/pseuds/trashofalltrades
Summary: While stationed at a French hospital in WWII, Claire runs into Captain America who in turn introduces her to Peggy Carter.  A lasting friendship ensues that spans not only decades, but centuries.





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This was literally just supposed to be the first chapter and it spiraled out of control so oops?  
> much thanks to ChimaeraKitten for beta reading.

October 1944

 

    Claire really, _really_ hated when they were understaffed. The new group of doctors hadn't yet arrived, and some of the nurses had fallen ill themselves, making matters even worse. Whoever was available had to pitch in, and the resulting chaos was impressive.

    Currently the front of her dress was spotted with blood, she hadn’t had a bathroom break in hours, and needed to roll a soldier twice her size onto his back without hurting him worse than he already was. _By herself_.

    With a grunt, she tried to pull up on his shoulder, resulting in a lot of swearing on her part and groans from the patient in question.

    “Christ,” she panted, stepping back for a moment to assess the situation, hands on her hips. She tried again to no avail, and was about to go try and track down an orderly when a soldier came up and tried to talk with her.

    “Patients must remain in their beds. If you need something find Mary, I'm a little preoccupied at the moment” she snapped, turning around to hand gloves to a nurse who was dealing with a code brown, while simultaneously looking for her stethoscope.

    “No, I'm not hurt. Can I help you out?” She waved a hand behind her as she gathered up some gauze.

    “Please do, no one else in the bloody army seems able to.”

    The two of them together got the patient rolled over, and Claire immediately began examining his leg. Luckily it wasn’t too serious, definitely broken, but not shattered. Her main concern however, was to remove all the shrapnel and stitch the deeper cuts back up.

    She vaguely heard the man say something behind her, but she was too engrossed beginning to clean out the wounds to pay attention. She looked at her patient critically, eyebrows knitted in concentration. Perhaps the larger pair of tweezers?

 

 

    Later in the afternoon, someone finally showed up to relieve her. She rushed to the bathroom, and then walked outside to eat a belated lunch.

    The French scenery never ceased to impress her, always far more tranquil and beautiful in contrast to the human misery she dealt with during a typical day. With a sigh, she sat down on the edge of the steps and kicked off her shoes, moving to massage her feet.

    She was lost in thought, staring out at the mountains and munching on an apple when a voice from behind startled her, causing her to whip around.

    “Sorry!” the man said taking a step backwards, his hands half raised by his chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He had an American accent, and Claire recognized him as the same guy who had helped her earlier in the day.

    “I just wanted to thank you for taking such good care of my friend.”

    “Oh, you’re very welcome. Sorry you had to get involved, it’s been rather hectic around here.”

    He smiled. “I guessed as much.” He extended his hand. “Steve Rogers.”

    “Claire Randall” she replied shaking it. “Wait,” she said confused. That name was familiar, but from where? She ran through newspaper headlines in her head, and as the realization dawned on her she took a step back, horrified.

    “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ I snapped at Captain America!”

    The man- Captain America- chuckled. “I’m stealing that expression.”

    “Feel free,” she said faintly “I’m sorry.”

    “Don’t worry about it. You guys are under a lot of pressure in there.”

    Claire shook her head, still blushing. “I should have thanked you earlier for your help.”

    “Just doing my job- for you and my men. That was my friend Dugan you were trying to roll over.”

    “He’ll be fine” Claire said, seeing the unspoken question and worry in his eyes, and glad that for once she was delivering good news. “Broken leg, multiple shrapnel wounds, possible concussion, and a lot of bruises.” she said ticking the ailments off on her fingers, “But he’ll heal.”

    “That’s a relief. He was pretty banged up.”

    She shot him a sidelong glance. “Do I even want to know what you were doing? You and-what’s your group called? The Howling Commandos?”

    “Yes, but loose lips sink ships and all that.”

    This time it was Claire’s turn to laugh. “Fine,” she joked in mock exasperation. “I guess I can’t sell your secrets to the Germans.” She looked down at her watch. “I have to get back to work anyway. It was nice talking with you.”

    She gathered up the remains of her lunch, but before she could turn to leave, Steve stopped her.

    “Hold up- would you like to join our group for dinner? I have some guys to stubborn to come get checked out, and you could ask the CO about staffing.”

    Claire rolled her eyes and muttered, “Men.”

    “Is that a yes?”

    “Sure, but do you really think the CO will listen?”

    “Of course. Not that you need it but the commandos can back you up. It would be _inconvenient_ if Captain America happened to leak to the press how poorly our medical staff is being treated.”

 

 

    Steve hung around the rest of the afternoon, helping carry supplies and boost morale. The last thing they did before the end of Claire’s shift was to go check on Dugan. Claire changed his bandages as Steve chatted and updated him on what everyone else had been doing.

    The pair got ready to leave, with Claire giving final instructions to Dugan to not, under any circumstances, get out of bed.

    “I mean it,” she growled. “I will break your other leg.”

    “Yes Ma’am” Dugan said, with a mock salute.

    With that the night nurse arrived and the two left to make the short walk back to the mess hall.

    “Do you always have to threaten your patients?” Steve asked as they made their way down the dirt path.

    “Only the stubborn ones. A surprising number of guys blatantly disregard our orders. Our head nurse still jokes about the guy that wanted to go for a run the day after he   broke both his legs."

    Steve cringed, smiling in sympathy. “Well, I suppose being hardheaded prevents brain injuries. I’ve done some stupid stuff too,” he said, with a guilty look in Claire’s direction.

    “Well that’s pretty much a given. Don’t worry about it. It gets rather monotonous and lonely out here, hardheadedness is at least interesting.”

    “Makes your life more difficult though.”

    “I suppose, but there’s always a crisis to fix even if patients aren’t involved.”

    “I believe that’s what us Americans call a SNAFU,” he said with a grin.

    “Oh really? And what do the Brits call it? Claire asked, her eyebrows raised.

    “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask my friend Peggy. I think you two are going to get along.”


	2. The News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The War is winding down and everything finally seems to be returning to normal. Then Claire reads the newspaper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to ChimaeraKitten for beta reading.

April 1945

 

    Claire hummed as she folded bandages she hoped would never actually be used. It was clear the war was winding down; the intake of patients had slowed to a trickle, and the papers were full of news about axis defeats. The base itself had also shrunk. Most of the soldiers had been deployed for the final push into Germany and the support staff was beginning to be dismantled.

    During her lunch break she walked down to pick up the mail. There would be her usual correspondence with Frank of course, more frequent now because of the planning that had to be done for their future after the War. She was also hoping for a letter from Peggy.

 

 

    Steve had been right- Peggy was amazing, and it had been nice to partake in female conversation that wasn’t about blood and guts. When Peggy had still been stationed in France Claire would join her for dinner whenever she could get away from work, occasionally joining Steve and the other Commandos as well.

    It was a merry little group, with conversations that often turned into unbelievable stories that caused their subjects a bit of either pride or embarrassment. Punching sexist soldiers, backstage antics with the showgirls, ridiculous mission events, all were explained with roaring laughter.

    Claire was at a disadvantage with her work “not being fit for dinner time conversation.” Instead she provided a sense of normalcy. She would talk about life with her uncle or explain random history tidbits she had picked up from Frank. Peggy was especially interested in the weird history stories, like the Russian Czar that court-martialed a rat and hanged it for treason.

    More importantly, she spoke of her love of plants. The commandos made her teach them how to identify edible or medically useful ones, and with her help they developed a sort of flower language for fieldwork.

    The group inevitably had to leave to fight or spy or who knows what, but she and Peggy had made it a point to keep in touch.

 

 

    An unusually large crowd was gathered in the post office, especially since the rest of the base was almost empty. They were passing around recently delivered newspapers, and Claire walked over to see what all the commotion was about. Likely a major battle had just finished.

    As she got closer she could see that their faces were somber, the paper passed with furrowed brows and slumped shoulders. Likely not a victory then, she thought, silently cursing, thinking back to her pile of bandages lying ominously on the surgical tray.

    “What happened?” She asked, butting in to try and see the headlines. What she read caused her to inhale sharply, then look up at the group around her. “No,” she whispered, rereading the headline, her voice sounding far away. “No it can’t be.” She frantically scanned the rest of the article, and felt tears prick the back of her eyes.

    The headline read “ **CAPTAIN AMERICA DIES IN PLANE CRASH!** ”

 

 

 

    She trudged towards her post box, completely oblivious to everything around her, and got her mail. The tears didn’t fall until she saw that she did indeed have a letter from Peggy, dated from when Steve was still alive.

 

 

    Claire knew death. Her constant encounters with it was, for once, a blessing. It allowed her to will herself to become numb, walk back to the hospital, and continue to work, if rather grimly. She was on auto pilot- moving from bed to bed stiffly, with bland inquiries into health, not bothering to try and keep up her usual dialogue. By the end of the day it didn’t even matter. The news had spread, smothering any conversation she might have had.

    That evening she choked down some dinner,and then sat slumped over at her desk. She sat there, repetitively turning the envelope over in her hand and contemplating how she would possibly respond to its contents.

    She knew death, sure, but with the exception of her parents and uncle they had been impersonal, and as the evening wore on she realized she couldn’t do that with Steve. He had been a symbol of everything good about their cause, but most of all he had been a friend who had made recent months more bearable.

    “And Peggy,” she thought stifling a sob. “Poor, poor Peggy.”

    Resigned, Claire opened Peggy’s letter, dated three weeks previously.

_My Dear Claire,_ it began.

_The scenery where we are is quite lovely. It doesn’t compare to home of course, but we are having a grand time on the road. Steve and the gang are up to their usual tricks, and having entirely too much fun making use of your blasted plants. If nothing else they’ve enjoyed leaving obscene messages for the others to find. The herbs have also added some flavor to our MREs, and for that we are all supremely grateful…_

    The letter continued, containing trivial things, and it being so cheery almost made it worse. Most likely they actually hadn’t been having that much fun. Peggy told her very little- both out of secrecy and so she wouldn’t worry. Even Sargent Barnes’ death had been reported to her by others.

    Nevertheless, it was better than the situation they were in at present.

    Claire got up to pour herself a splash of bourbon that Dugan had given to her as a thank you present before he left. She set down the glass on her desk with a thunk and went to grab her stationary, wishing to do anything else but write another condolence letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Russian Czar rat thing is 100% real. It was in response to the rat knocking over his toy soldiers. Claire would totally know a bunch of random history tidbits from Frank, and as a lover of said tidbits I had to share one.
> 
>  
> 
> For now I'm still updating on Wednesdays


	3. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While getting ready to move back to the States, Peggy receives a letter from Claire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to ChimaeraKitten for beta reading.

May 1945

    With a sigh, Peggy taped the last box shut. It was only days after the allied victory and the SSR base was already being dismantled. The last thing she put away was the picture of Steve from his file, staring at it as if he would magically come to life.

 _If only_ she thought, for the umpteenth time. _If only… if only that bloody man had given me his coordinates_. She sat down heavily on the desk, the chair having been carted away with everything else, and looked out on to what had once been a bustling office. If only… but it wouldn’t have mattered-wouldn’t have worked. She never would have that dance.

    She forced herself to snap out of it-she still had too much to do to wallow in self-pity. She loaded up her boxes on the cart, handed over her final report, and went to turn in her keys and get her last bundle of mail.

    Her stomach clenched when she saw Claire’s handwriting. At least she probably knew by now, she so hated being the bearer of bad news. Though she really hadn’t written about _any_ news, she realized guiltily-she hadn’t written to anyone since before Steve’s death. At first it was unintentional, but as time passed the silence grew awkward and she was at a loss for what to say. How do you interact with someone who seemingly lives in a world unchanged while yours has?

    She bit her lip and ripped open the envelope of Claire’s letter.

 

_My Dear Peggy,_

_I’m so, so, sorry. I only knew Steve for a few months; I can only imagine what you and the other commandos are going through._

_It’s bloody unfair-a waste of such a kind and noble man. He was such a help to me at the hospital, and I’m sure the patients enjoyed his company as well. The day I met him let’s just say I was not at my best. He was almost insufferably understanding and helped me from potentially adding a dislocated shoulder to Dugan’s injuries. I could go on, but you already know his admirable qualities. They were on full display to everyone, but I think especially to you and the others he loved._

_Throughout this war there have been a number of times I wish I could turn back the clock. To stop the madness and the fighting, save some men. I wish that once more- for Steve’s sake, and yours._

_Your friend,_

_Claire_

 

_Postscript- I’ve included my address for after the war. Please keep in touch._

 

    Peggy smiled sadly. Of course she understood- to her the world had changed as well.

    She sniffed and then let out a deep breath. Claire was damn observant. She would have tried to convince her to join the SSR had it not been that it was clear to anyone with working eyes that medicine was her calling. Peggy wouldn’t be surprised if she became a full doctor one day. It was her way of, if not turning back time like she said, at least undoing some of its consequences.

    She turned and went to go dig a pen out of one of her boxes. Moving out could wait. She needed to write a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all those who have motivated me with comments!
> 
> I know this chapter is short/angsty. I promise there will eventually be some more upbeat moments!  
> I'm still updating every Wednesday...


	4. The Next Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy's attempt at this thing called "vacation" is foiled by a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to ChimaeraKitten for beta reading!

May 1946

    For once Peggy had been looking forward to relaxing. During the past year she had been settling into her post-war job with the SSR in New York, and they had finally forced her to take her first vacation day since 1941. Grudgingly she agreed, and when the phone rang that morning she grumbled, assuming something had changed. What could possibly have happened in the twelve hours she had been gone?

    “Hello?” she said, stifling a yawn as she set her breakfast plate down on the counter.

    “Is this Peggy Carter?” a male voice asked. A voice she didn’t recognize and that was most certainly not her boss. Instantly she was awake and suspicious.

    “Yes, what can I do for you?”

    “Well my wife- Claire Randall-"

    “Oh you must be Frank!” Peggy interrupted, her face brightening as she relaxed. “Claire has told me so much about you. How is she?”

    There was a long pause on the other end. Peggy body immediately re-clenched with that sinking gut feeling she had learned to trust, and her eyes closed as if she could will away the information.

    “She’s disappeared.”

    “What?” she jerked away from the phone. “Disappeared?” It was concerning, but sadly a relief. Missing, at least, meant not dead. It was a start.

    “So, she’s not with you? That was my main question” he sighed, despair creeping into his voice. “I had hoped- she held you in such high regard. I thought maybe she would have told you…”

    “Where she went?” she finished gently. “I’m sorry, I don’t. But wait- for her to have told me- do you think it was planned?”

    “I don’t know anymore. I thought it was an accident or by force. But the police have given up, They- they assume she left me.” his voice catching, in anger or sadness she didn’t know.

    “Listen,” Peggy said firmly, trying to reassure him. “That’s not something she would do.  There is no way she left you intentionally without an explanation.”

    “That’s what I thought. But now-“

    “No.” she said, her voice rising. “Claire adored you. She told the camp stories about you and your work. She loved getting your letters. And you repay her by questioning her loyalty?”

    Once again there was silence on the other end, and Peggy began to worry she had crossed the line.

    “You’re right.” he said finally, “I just don’t know what to do.”

    A string of thoughts flashed through Peggy's mind. Strategies and problems and consequences. There was never really any question of what _she_ would do, however. Her friend needed to be found.

     “I don’t know what Claire told you about my job, but I’m an- an investigator of sorts. I’ll see if I can find anything.”

    “Thank you,” he said, relief obvious in his voice that there was still some chance for everything to work out.

    “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I have a bit of leave saved up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how many of you have watched the Outlander show, but that's mostly what I based Frank's reaction on.


	5. The Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search ends and Peggy receives good news for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks To ChimaeraKitten for Beta Reading

January 1949

    Peggy was meeting Claire for lunch, an idea she still couldn’t quite believe.

    She had searched as much as she could. Called in some favors, asked contacts, talked with locals of the area, and still nothing. She kept working long after the police had given up, frequently revisiting the sight where her car was found. Peggy felt that if she just looked harder a key piece of evidence would appear, or that Claire herself would come sauntering out of the forest, her basket of plants over one arm. It never happened. The only thing she found in those woods was a crumbling circle of rocks.

    She was simply gone. It was just one more death she couldn’t prevent, and it made her so angry. Jarvis’s words- as much as he had apologized for them- came back to her, and she was beginning to think he was right. Those she surrounded herself with died, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

    Claire, magically, had overnight become an exception. Last April, after years without a word, suddenly there was a phone call from a friend in Scotland.

    She stood speechless, overwhelmed with joy. Her head fell into her hands and her eyes closed and she repeated a silent mantra.

_Thank God, thank God, thank God._

    The weeks that followed were full of information gathered from sources that all told of her odd return. Then Frank had called, after having essentially ceased contact when they had given up the search. He explained they were coming to live in Boston, Claire was pregnant, and perhaps she could meet her for coffee once the baby had arrived and she was feeling better? There had to be more to the story. She had done the math- it was clear it wasn’t Frank’s child, but she also knew she hadn’t been wrong about Claire just up and leaving. Regardless, it wasn’t her place to pry. She had agreed immediately, ecstatic to see her again

 

    She had been jittery all morning leading up to their meeting. She hadn’t seen Claire in person in over three years. And now she was here. She paced the room, equal parts nervous and excited, and after completing her pacing circuit for the tenth time while debating how it would go, Daniel stopped her.

    “You’ll never see her at all if you wear a hole through the floor,” he said with a smile. He gave her a quick kiss and then handed over her coat.

    “Have fun.”

 

 

    Claire was already at the café when Peggy arrived. She looked thinner, her face gaunt, and almost as tired looking as she had been during the war. That would be the baby’s doing though, Peggy realized. Briana had been born in November, and she had sent a baby gift along with an early Christmas present.

    Claire looked up, and a smile bloomed across her face upon seeing Peggy’s approach. She stood up, jostling the table as she did so, and moved in for a hug. Peggy embraced her, nearly crushing her and marveling that there was a body to crush. “Oh Claire,” she whispered into her crazy tangle of curls. It was part apology, part relief, part something else not even she knew, but it didn’t matter. She was _here._

    “I wanted to thank you. Frank told me you tried- tried to find me,” she said awkwardly.

    “Of course, I’m just upset I couldn’t do more to help.”

    At that Claire gave her the “look,” identical to the one from the war. Whenever she was mad at herself, Claire looked at her with a sympathetic but firm expression that had been code for “You’re being ridiculous.”

    Peggy burst out laughing, surprised to see it again, and Claire granted her a small smile in return.

    “Glad to know I still have it in me.”

    “I suppose some things never change. Would you like some watery coffee too, for old times’ sake?”

 

 

    They ended up with cappuccinos that were much better than field coffee and quickly caught up as they sipped. Peggy talked about the non-confidential aspects of her job at the SSR, including her brief stint in L.A., and escapades with the Jarvis'. Claire’s interest and slight horror at her work stories was only matched by her amusement at her relationship with Daniel Sousa. She demanded the details, laughing along at some of Peggy’s more embarrassing moments.

    It distracted her, which by now Peggy had figured was probably the real reason for Frank setting this meeting up, making her infinitely more curious. Claire was also guarded, avoiding any topic that might relate to her disappearance. She lit up though, when talking about Briana. They swapped baby stories, with Peggy talking about all her nieces and nephews, and the conversation quickly moved to parenting difficulties, as all conversations regarding children are bound to do.

    “On Satuday she went through _eight_ outfits.”

    “Acid reflux, is it?”

    “Yes. It could be worse, at least she’s not colicky…”

    It was almost like normal. There were still jokes and eyerolls and rants. Advice given and received. The only thing keeping it from being just like old times was Claire’s distant expression that came and went throughout the conversation. It puzzled Peggy. She was good at reading people, and Claire had always had a glass face, but she couldn’t quite tell what was wrong. She didn’t seem particularly distressed, but she wasn’t completely there.

    Peggy chalked it up to nerves, figuring it would get better over time or with a bigger group. Reappearing after who knows what and dealing with a newborn would shock anyone.

    As they finished their coffee Claire inadvertently suggested a way for Peggy to test her theory.

    “Next time we do this you should bring Daniel with you. I must meet the man that’s stolen my friend’s heart,” she joked, an eyebrow turned up in a fake suspicious look.

    Peggy snorted. “Likewise. What if the history thing is just a front for some revolutionary plot?”

    Claire gave her a half smile, opened her mouth as if to say something but then just shook her head. “Others maybe, but not him. Like, oh I don’t know, your boyfriend who is a literal agent?”

    Peggy laughed. “Alright, alright, enough with the ragging. We can set something up.”

 

 

    A few weeks after they met for coffee, Peggy invited Claire and Frank on a triple date. She and Sousa, Jarvis and Ana, and the pair of them could all go out to dinner.

    “Or so you claim,” Daniel said with a long look at Peggy, his eyebrow raised. “What’s the deal? You hate fancy dinners.”

    “Intelligence gathering,” she said innocently, a small smile flitting across her face as if to challenge him.

    “Really?”

    She rolled her eyes. “No, Claire just needs to be with friends right now. Though I’m sure I could work some intelligence gathering in…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter/less angst as promised. I just love the idea of Peggy and Claire trying to one-up each others' parenting fails.


	6. The Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole gang goes out to dinner, but things quickly become awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to ChimaeraKitten for beta reading, and also for the cool new icon!

February 1949

 

    It was worse with the whole group.

    The two couples had driven down to meet the Randalls' at a local Boston restaurant. Peggy had prepped everyone to avoid topic related to Claire’s recent past, and also made a mental note to try and limit the amount of baby talk for Ana’s sake. But everything fell apart from the time they made introductions.

    Frank and Claire had warmly greeted Daniel and herself. Frank was close to how she pictured him: a stereotypical mild-mannered history professor in a sweater. Certainly attractive and kind, but definitely not on the most wanted list.

    The situation changed when they stepped aside to let the Jarvis’ say hello.

    Claire’s eyes widened as Ana came into full view, her mouth gaping before she quickly plastered on a smile and greeted her at Frank’s prompting. She looked spooked, Peggy realized, like it was someone she recognized. But how could that be?

    The six of them slid into their chairs and began to talk after ordering their meals. Early on the evening was enjoyable, with laughter and stories circulating around the table in between bites of food. Claire joined in too after she recovered, discussing some of the best local places to visit to Jarvis and Ana who wanted to spend time hitting tourist spot the next day.

    The conversation inevitably turned to favorite English restaurants and old haunts, specifically a pub near Peggy’s childhood house that served the _best_ shepherd’s pie. Poor Daniel and Ana were left to figure out what exactly various obscure British dishes contained, nodding along at the complaints that “it’s just not the same here in the States.”

 

 

    “How do you like all the American history in Boston?” Daniel eventually asked Frank, trying to switch the topic from shared experiences back to something he understood.

    “Well I’m a Jacobite scholar by trade, but the history here is certainly fascinating. I’ve got a lot to learn,” he joked.

    “Oh how interesting,” Ana said, “My grandfather was Scottish- a McKenzie I think. I’ve always wanted to learn more about him.”

    Claire paled and got the wide-eyed look again as she leaned back.

    Frank glanced over at her briefly, eyebrows knit in concern before turning back to Ana.

    “Well, that would be a clan from the highlands,” he said slowly, “but how on Earth did your grandfather end up in Hungary?” he asked with another look over at Claire.

    Ana laughed at his confused expression. “He was always the black sheep of the family. Supposedly he was a mercenary that fought for German unification and then settled down in Hungary,” she said with a shrug.

    Normally the story would have interested Peggy, but she was to worried about Claire to pay attention. She was sitting calmly, but the napkin twisted in her hands gave her away.

    Frank leaned towards Ana, face lit in excitement and totally engrossed in her family history. “Do you know where his family was from? It’s possible you’re distantly related to some friends of ours.”

    Ana shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

    Frank sat back slightly deflated. “No matter- an interesting clan, the McKenzies, no matter where in Scotland they lived. They pretty much all supported the Stuarts in the rising of 1745.”

    “Oh yes, against the English, right? When I married Edwin my mother joked that my Scottish ancestors would be horrified,” she said, smiling up at Jarvis who squeezed her hand in return.

    “She always asked, ‘what would your grandfather think, marrying a Sassenach?’”

    With a clatter, Claire dropped her fork. She wiped her mouth with her napkin and then quickly stood up, narrowly missing bumping into the side of the table.

    “I-excuse me. I need to visit the powder room.”

    There was a moment of silence after she left. Frank looked down at his lap, face burning and jaw clenched.

    “I think I’ll join her,” Peggy said lightly as she stood up. “Why don’t you tell them about the flamingo fiasco, Jarvis?” she asked, causing him to cringe and then chuckle as she turned and headed towards Claire.

 

 

    She walked slowly, trying to give her a few moments of privacy before she barged in, hesitating as she neared the door. What the hell was she going to say? Should she ask what was going on? Frank was clearly involved, but how?

    Realizing she could ask none of those things without making it worse or forcing Claire to lie, she took a deep breath and opened the door. She could, at least, make sure she was alright.

    Claire was at the sink washing her hands, a deep frown reflected in the mirror. She turned, hearing Peggy’s entrance, with a weary expression on her face.

    “It’s okay,” Peggy said softly, closing the door behind her. “They’re talking about a particularly annoying flamingo. Hopefully it’s safe to come out?”

    Her question was confirmed by Claire’s small smile.

    “Thank you. I just-"

    Peggy held up a hand. “I don’t need an explanation we both know isn’t true.” she said gently. “Just- promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”

    Claire stared at her for a moment and the nodded with a sad half smile. “We have maybe room for secrets, but not lies,” she whispered, as if quoting someone.

    Then squaring her shoulders, she opened the door and walked back out into the restaurant with Peggy by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lotte Verbeek plays both Ana Jarvis in Agent Carter and Geillis Duncan in the Outlander TV show. Hence Claire's reaction to Ana. I know it's obscure, but I liked it too much to not include it.


	7. The Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life slowly returns to normal for both Peggy and Claire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to Chimaera Kitten for beta reading

1949-1965

    Claire made good on the promise. Peggy and Daniel quickly became family friends, and she and Peggy grew even closer. They met when they could, called when they couldn’t, and slowly life returned to what passed as normal.

    Early on their grasp on “normal” was shaky. For Claire, there was her readjustment period, intensified by her being a new mother. For Peggy it was work woes, and the constant requests for interviews about the War and Steve. The only one she ever agreed to do was for the Smithsonian’s Captain America exhibit, and even then she only made it through with Claire’s encouragement.

     But the good far outweighed the bad.            

     There were there weekly evening calls about what they had been up to, whether it was news of business trips and Briana’s art projects, or Peggy’s description of how she almost set the house on fire when Daniel’s parents were visiting.

     They took interest in each other’s careers. Peggy listened as Claire talked about particularly strange patients or new information she had learned. It fascinated Peggy and had the added benefit of helping Claire study when she was still in med school. When she graduated, Peggy was in the front row and presented her with new instruments for her medical kit.

    Claire was also interested in Peggy’s work at the SSR and occasionally joined her on the low-ish-risk components of missions. She would join Peggy on stakeouts in nearby public places to make the situation more believable and provide an extra pair of eyes. Once Peggy needed a getaway car and so Claire drove it to the designated spot and left it along with various supplies that she didn’t want to ask about.

    As her work schedule grew more intense she stopped. A small part of Peggy was glad- the assignments were becoming more dangerous and while Claire had been extremely useful, her continuing participation would have put both their careers, not to mention their lives, on the line.

    Instead Claire helped by giving medical advice. Peggy tried to avoid the hospital at all costs, and so every so often there would be a late-night phone call from Daniel. His worried voice would describe her injuries to Claire as she jotted notes on her bedside notepad and rattled off questions to determine if she did, in fact, need to go to the ER.

    Peggy also became an honorary aunt to Bree. She took her shooting sometimes, giving Frank a break. All the presents she and Daniel sent to Bree could only be found after an elaborate scavenger hunt, complete with cards containing coded messages and ciphers that Peggy had taught her to break. She and Daniel would babysit on the rare occasion Frank was abroad the same time Claire had inpatient service, bringing her up to New York to stay with them and the Jarvis’ for a week. When Bree grew older and started to become interested in science and engineering, Peggy helped her get a summer job working for Howard Stark.

 

     It was almost perfect. Their careers and families and friendship provided welcome stability compared to what their lives had been like during the War.

     April was the only exception. It was the anniversary of both Steve and Jamie’s deaths, as well as Claire’s miraculous return. It was when they called and wrote the most, both of them finding joy and escape in reminiscing.

     April was also when Claire wanted to explain the most-when the memories came back to her and she had no one to share them with. It was the worst at night, when everyone but her was asleep and she was left alone with her thoughts.

     The stench of the men at camp. The flash of a knife and a “J” carved in her thumb. A glimpse of fiery red hair interspersed with a rumbling laugh. The shriek of the stones.

     Peggy had never asked about her disappearance- and God was she thankful for it- but there would always be the occasional glance and raised eyebrow. A desire for information that she couldn’t give. Not without breaking promises and hurting her family.

 

     She found comfort, ironically, in Jamie- or more accurately his words. Just as Bree was a reminder of him so to was Peggy. It always made her smile envisioning how the two of them would get along. They had the same stubbornness and determination and the stance to go along with it. They cracked the similar jokes. The founding principle of their relationship was even the same for Christ’s sake.

       _There are things I canna tell you, at least not yet_. His voice came back to her, with his Scottish brogue, slightly nervous as it had been when they were still getting to know each other.

        _When you do tell me something, let it be truth. And I’ll promise ye the same._ Peggy had echoed that sentiment two hundred years later. It had worked for Jamie, and it would do for her as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peggy being the cool aunt will always amuse me


	8. The Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank dies leaving Claire to turn to her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to ChimaeraKitten for beta reading!

January 1966

    Joe helped her to an upstairs call room and offered her another headkerchief as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

    “Claire? Do you want me to take you home to Bree?” he asked, his concern evident by the fact he still hadn’t reverted to her nickname.

    “What?” She blew her nose. Taking a shaky breath she said, “Oh- um, sure. But I want to call Peggy and get myself cleaned up first.”

    “Okay, I’ll bring your things up,” he said, hesitantly beginning to leave.

    “No, don’t trouble yourself. This will be quick and then-”

    “Claire,” he said, silencing her protest with an exasperated look.

    She looked away. “I’ll be fine. I promise I won’t drown in my own tears”

    Joe granted her a small smile. “I know,” and with that he left, closing the door softly behind him.

    Claire slowly stood up and made her way to the desk and phone in the corner of the room. She dialed Peggy’s number and waited, hoping she wasn’t out on an assignment.

    “Hello?” came Peggy’s answer, her voice groggy from the early morning.

    “It’s Claire,” she said, her voice calm, but still thick from crying.

    “What’s wrong?” Peggy asked urgently, any trace of tiredness gone.

    “Frank. He’s- He’s dead.”

    There was a gasp on the other end and a pause. “Claire what happened? Did he- are you okay?”

    She choked back a sob. “It- it was my fault. We fought and he-he went for a drive. He crashed the car.” she said her voice catching on the last syllable.

    “Claire- I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” Peggy said slowly, attempting to calm her while also trying and failing to mask her own shock.

    “But it was,” she said pounding a fist on the table. She had to make her understand-it was for so many reasons. “It didn’t matter enough- and Bree-Briana- I tried to make him- to leave-I couldn’t do it.” She continued, not making any sense to Peggy who couldn’t know the details she needed to piece any of this together.

    “Claire.” Peggy said firmly, cutting her off. “What do you need me to do? Is there someone there with you right now?”

    She took a breath. “Joe is here. He’ll drop me off at home with Bree.” With a sigh, she continued. “God Peg, what am I going to tell her?”

    Peggy closed her eyes, envisioning a condolence letter from twenty years before.

    “You’ll tell her it’s unfair. That he was a good man who loved her. That there was nothing you could do no matter how much you wish there was.

    She turned towards Daniel. A man Steve had saved who now sat next to her in bed, a pained expression on his face as he realized what was happening.

   "That life goes on in one form or another,” she whispered as an afterthought.

    They sat there silent for a moment before Peggy said. “You’re allowed to grieve along with Bree.”

    Claire glanced down at the first of her two wedding rings. What would she say? That she had already mourned him years ago? Or perhaps worse, that while she was upset she wasn’t distraught?

    “I’ll be fine,” she said eventually.

    Peggy huffed, but let it go. “I’ll come down as soon as I can. Is there anything specific you need me to do?”

    “I don’t know.” The list of tasks began cycling through her head. Explanations, obituaries, condolences, a funeral. Things she mercifully never had to think about with Jamie.

    “I don’t know," she repeated. "I need to make some plans and then call back…”

    “Daniel and I will still come down,” she said firmly, “Lord knows we’re entitled to some leave.”

    Claire gave a small snort of amusement. “Just don’t bring work with you. Wouldn’t want a gunfight at the memorial service.”

    At that moment, Joe came back in holding a new handkerchief and a cup of tea, with the overnight bag form her office slung over his shoulder. He eased the door closed with his foot and set her bag down on the bed.

    “Peggy?” He mouthed pointing to the phone.

    Claire nodded. “One moment, Peg.” she put her hand over the mouthpiece and turned towards him.

    “We’re trying to make plans.”

    “Sounds good.” He set the cup of tea in front of her, smiling at her surprised expression. “Still a true Brit, L.J.”

    “Don’t you know it,” she said taking a sip. “I need a moment to finish the paperwork and then I’ll be ready to go.”

    “Sure thing. I’ll wait outside.”

    “Peggy?” Claire asked, uncovering the phone. “Joe and I are about to leave. I’ll call you soon.”

    “Okay. Daniel and I will start packing. We’ll have to see If I have nice clothes that aren’t bloodstained…”

    Claire smiled. “Thanks Peg,” she said softly.

    After hanging up she sipped her tea, hastily signing off the last police report. When she stepped out into the hallway Joe was there waiting. “All good L.J?”

    “Getting there.”

    Her friends were with her. It would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief update-There's one more chapter and a two part epilogue and then it's done!  
> Also a heads up that I may or may not make next weeks Wednesday update. Because what even is a consistent posting schedule?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. The Explanation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy has heard of and seen a lot of unusual things in her life, but Claire's story tops them all.

September 1968

Now she just had to tell Peggy. Though there really was no “just” about it. She had been nervous the entire past week, restlessly planning what to say and anticipating all the ways in which things could go wrong.

Thankfully Joe, at least, had believed her explanation. Rather than run out of the room screaming, he had agreed to watch over Bree and handle the paperwork. She figured that made her success rate for a good initial reaction about 50-50, a thought that lead to another pang of nervousness as she wondered about which side of the statistic Peggy would fall on.

As she left the sterile, white walled hospital for the last time she felt a sense of relief so overwhelming it surprised her. _He believed her._ She smiled, recalling his teasing and delight that she was interested in someone.

“Is it Bree’s daddy?” he had asked with total understanding, his mouth turned up in a small smile that seemed to say “duh.” He had a point. Bree looked little like her and nothing like Frank. It was the damn Fraser genes, as stubborn as the individuals themselves, determined not to be outdone by another’s DNA.

_If he believed me so will Peggy_ , she thought, trying to reassure herself. _She will_.

 

 

 She arrived at Peggy’s office, and was ushered in by a secretary.

“Claire! Come sit, I’ll get us some tea and we can chat,” Peggy said, greeting her and taking her coat.

Claire smiled and sat down in the chair. “I think tea is definitely necessary for this conversation.”

Peggy’s smile faded as she looked at her, brow furrowed. She grabbed the tea tray from the secretary, kicked the door closed with her foot, and sat down across form her.

“Spill.”

And with that invitation Claire did. Haltingly at first, just as with Bree and Joe, and then gradually faster, nearly tripping over her words in a rush to get it out.

Craigh na dun, Jamie, Wentworth, France and Faith, the Bonnie Prince, her harrowing trip back before Culloden, and, of course, the past months search with Roger and Bree and the resulting news that had bowled her over. All of it came pouring out, her words laced with a unique mix of joy, regret, and a desperate hope. And Peggy listened, making her feel stupid for ever having doubted that she would.

“He’s alive,” she whispered, her eyes shining with tears as she leaned forward. “I’m going back, Peggy. I’m going to find him.”

Peggy stared at her, eyes wide. Then she simply got up and hugged her for what she knew would be one of the last times, her own tears falling as she did so. She stepped back and it was as if twenty years had never passed. She could almost feel the bustle of the coffee shop around her, though this time their meeting was a farewell.

“I know why you didn’t tell me, but God I wish you could have.” There was no accusation in her voice, just regret as she thought of how much Claire had been forced to keep to herself. She shook her head, beginning to laugh. “It all makes sense- but who on Earth would have thought? Time travel? Highland rebels? You’ve had quite the adventure.”

Claire joined in, laughing along at the absurdity and also with relief. “I would have been more concerned if you had figured it out.”

"You’re right. I’ve seen some weird things, but this…” she said with a sweep of her hand.

She let out a breath as she leaned back, trying to figure out which question to ask first. “Frank- he was a historian. Did he know?”

“The better question is did he believe,” Claire said with a wry but pained smile. “I think he did some research, but never fully admitted I was right.”

Peggy’s jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with anger as she opened her mouth to speak.

Claire held up a hand. “No,” she said softly. “I won’t talk badly of him now. I loved him once and he- and he was a wonderful father to Bree.

Peggy bit her tongue and nodded. She thought for a moment and then asked, “How does it work?”

Claire smiled. “You think I know?” She shook her head, “I have some theories. But it’s dangerous no matter what.”

She shuddered slightly, recalling the vibrations that had settled into her bones, threatening to break her apart. 

“I know I’d be leaving you all behind, which I’m sorry for. Especially Bree. And I-” she continued, her hands clasped tightly around her cup.

“Claire,” Peggy said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “I’m not going to try and talk you out of this.”

“But I-”

She reached across her desk and grabbed Claire's hand, interrupting her string of worried thoughts. “Do you love him?” she asked gently.

“Yes.”

“Then what kind of friend would I be to try and stop that?”

She shook her head with a small smile. “I don’t know how I could even make that argument. First, I’ve done plenty of dangerous things myself. And second, this is the happiest I’ve seen you in years.”

She looked at Claire. Even without her glass face it would have been obvious. She was flushed, her eyes bright, and nearly bouncing up and down in her chair with newfound energy.

"I only ask that you tell him this: If he hurts you, I will personally find a way back there and punch him.”

Claire snorted, nearly choking on her tea. “I’ d like to see that fight. He’d underestimate you at first, making one of his dismissive Scottish noises as he sized you up,” she said, trying and failing to imitate the sound.

“And then?”

“He’d realize his mistake pretty quickly. And my medical services would be required yet again.”

Peggy laughed.

“I appreciate your concern,” Claire continued more seriously. “But I think it will be fine. He’s a wonderful man, it’s just the getting to him that’s the problem.”

Peggy poured herself another cup of tea and smiled as she looked back up at Claire. “Then tell me how I can help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that would be the last (miraculously on time) main chapter! Stay tuned for the two-part epilogue...


	10. The Epilogue:Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now it's all up to Briana.

April 1971

 

The phone rang.

Peggy wiped her mouth and got up from the table to answer it, leaving Daniel to clean up the dishes.

“Hello?”

“Hi Aunt Peg, It’s Bree.”

She smiled. “Hi sweetheart, how are you?” she asked, mouthing “It’s Bree” to Daniel. 

“Okay, but I need to talk to you about something. I’m not interrupting dinner, am I?”

No good could come of that. With as much cheer as she could muster she said, “No, we just finished. I left Daniel to do the dishes.”

Bree chuckled on the other end while Daniel made a not at all intimidating swatting motion with the towel.

“What’s wrong, Bree?”

She took a deep breath. “It’s Mama. I think she and Jamie are in trouble.”

“What?” she asked, her brow furrowing. "Wait. You know she definitely found him? They’re together?”

“Yes,” she said, a hint of a smile in her voice. “But I need to warn them. I need to go back.”

Peggy couldn’t stop herself from letting out a small huff of amusement. “Your family just can’t stay away from trouble, can you?” 

She shook her head. “I’ll drive down as soon as I can and help work this out. We’ll get you back.”

 

It looked like she would be involved in this time travel madness for another generation.


	11. The Epilogue: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes full circle once Steve emerges from the ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to ChimaeraKitten for beta reading!

2014

“It’s been so long.”

The words twisted and snaked their way to his stomach, and he choked back a sob.

“Well, I couldn’t leave my best girl. Not when she owes me a dance,” he said, forcing a smile as he began to re-explain everything.

Out of the blue Peggy smiled and said, “Claire would be so happy.”

“Claire? You still know her?”

“She was such a good doctor.”

“Doctor?”

The last time Steve had seen her she had been a lovely, whip smart nurse in France who, if he recalled correctly, had taught the Commandos how to swear using a plant code.

“You two stayed friends?”

“Of course!” she said, more incredulous than one would expect a ninety-three year old woman to be.

“We were so close. She had a daughter.” She pointed to one of the many photos on her bedside table. The grainy black and white image showed a laughing young girl, sitting on a porch step with a dog at her side.

“Oh?” he said, not wanting to stop her.

“Briana, such a lovely girl. We’re still family friends you know. She calls me a few times a year. Has her own kids too,” she said with a smile.

“That’s great,” he said, smiling back. “Is Frank still alive? I could try and contact him or the rest of the family.”

“Oh, you mean Jamie,” she said with a wistful sigh. “She went back you know. She was so happy when she got the news. Briana went too.”

She waved a hand. “They…started over.”

He opened his mouth to ask where exactly "back" was, but the door opened and one of the nurses walked in, carrying a tray of food and medication.

“I’ll come visit again soon,” he promised, squeezing her hand as he stood.

 

 

2016

The others gradually trickled out after paying their final respects. Natasha did too, giving him a final pat on the shoulder before going to wait outside.

The church was nearly empty, only himself, the coffin, and a final group remained. They turned towards him as he approached, one of the women hastily wiping her tear stained face.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, Captain Rogers. We’ll leave,” she said with a shaky smile.

“No, no it’s alright,” he said taking them in. “Peggy lived such a full life-it’s been my pleasure meeting everyone who cared about her.”

The four that stood in front of him were no exception. The woman that had been crying was older, with a mass of red hair streaked with gray. A man he assumed was her husband stood beside her, an arm around her waist, and a thick scar cutting across his neck. The other two with then were middle aged, the woman with the most familiar brown curls.

“I’m sorry, have we met before?”

She extended her hand to shake. “Amanda McKenzie. You probably knew my grandmother, Claire Fraser- er- Claire Randall at the time.”

He took a step back, gaping as he looked at them, a smile gradually overtaking his face.

There were quick introductions and handshakes. Briana, Roger, Jeremiah, and Amanda. The four of them and him all brought together by the friendship of two great women.

“Claire was so wonderful,” he said softly. “She was one of the best nurses I’ve ever known.”

Briana smiled in thanks. “She and Frank were good family friends with Peggy and Daniel,” she explained. “Peggy was like an aunt to me.”

“I know, she told me a little bit about you all. But she wasn’t very clear on what happened to Claire and Frank or how they all stayed so close…”

The four looked at each other conspiratorially.

“It’s a rather long story,” Roger eventually said.

Briana stared at Steve, her gaze calculating. After a moment, she gave him a small smile and laid a hand on Roger’s arm.

“We have the time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that would be the last chapter! Thanks to everyone for reading and commenting.
> 
> I have a work in progress that involves Peggy Carter (because how could I not include her?), and am planning on doing more with Outlander in the future...


End file.
